Chapter Nine
SCARLETT
Royal and Daisy headed out, saying they'd taken the early morning off but Daisy had to help her grandmother at their bakery and Royal needed to get to the Inn. Apparently, the Inn's CFO, someone called Forrest, could have held down the fort, but he'd left Wednesday for a quick trip out of town.
Fortunately for Royal, Forrest was scheduled to be back by tomorrow. And it didn't look like Tenn was going into the office for a while.
I followed Tenn out of Griffen and Hope's office, surprised by the crew of maids who bustled in and cleared all evidence of breakfast. "Can we go check on August?"
"You know he's okay, right?" Tenn asked, leading me by the handcuff back toward the stairs we'd taken earlier.
"I'd rather see for myself." I tugged again at the cuffs. "Can't we take these off?"
Tenn shot me an amused smile. "Not yet. Soon."
What was he waiting for? I turned into the room where Savannah had taken August earlier to find a huge kitchen complete with long tables, more than one stove, and a staff of three busy making something that seemed to require a ton of vegetables.
Tenn gave them all a wave and pulled me through the kitchen to a narrow hall off the back. Here, I heard the familiar strains of August's voice. The tight ball in my chest eased. He sounded normal—cheerful and a little too loud.
We opened the door into a small set of rooms, the first with a low table occupied by August and a smaller boy with dark hair and Savannah's gray eyes. They each had a coloring book and crayons, their voices raised in conversation. I recognized the names they were throwing back and forth as belonging to August's favorite trading card game.
An older woman who had to be Savannah's mother sat in a nearby armchair, a magazine in her lap, her eyes on the boys.
"Mom!" August shouted when he saw me. "Nicky has Pokémon too!! Did you bring my cards? He said we could play, and he wants me to teach him some stuff, but I need my cards."
Crossing the room, dragging Tenn behind me by the cuffs, I gave my little guy a one-armed hug. "I left your binder at home, love-bug. I was worried we'd lose it. I'm sorry."
August's lip pooched out, but he said, "S'okay, Mom. We left fast."
Yes, we had. If August were a little older, I'd give him a lecture about privacy and family business. Since he was eight, I'd pretend he hadn't said anything. Looking at Savannah's mother, I held out my free hand.
"Hi, I'm Scarlett, August's mom. Thanks so much for including him. I can take him off your hands if—"
"Mom!"
"No, Gramma!!"
Two little boys turned beseeching faces to me. Savannah's mother took my outstretched hand in a firm shake. "You can call me Miss Martha. Everyone does. And, if you don't mind, I'd love to keep August with us. They've been getting along just fine. Nicky is dying to show him his toys, and later, we're going to take the soccer ball outside. August said he'd show Nicky his moves and help him practice his kick."
I couldn't bring myself to dim the hopeful light in August's eyes. As much as I wanted my baby boy right by my side, we'd come here in part because it was safe. The last thing August wanted was to hang with me when there was a new friend to play with.
"If you're sure. I don't want to impose."
A warm smile spread across Miss Martha's weathered face, a glint lighting her eyes as they noted the handcuffs tying me to Tenn. "I'm sure you know, sometimes two are easier than one."
I couldn't help my laugh. "I absolutely do know. I don't have my phone, but it looks like I'll be with Tenn today. If you need a break, just let him know, and I'll come rescue you."
The glint in Miss Martha's eye turned into a full-blown laugh. "Looks like you're the one who needs rescue."
"How do you know it's not me who needs rescue?" Tenn asked, grinning at Miss Martha.
She harrumphed and shook her head. "I know you, Tennessee Sawyer. Just because you let Royal pretend he's more charming doesn't mean you're not just as much trouble." A pointed look at me. "Give this one an inch, and he'll take a mile."
"Not fair," Tenn protested. "You don't know her. She's way more trouble than I am."
"I know she raised a smart and sweet boy who got Nicky to use a fork for every bite of pancakes and also remembered to say please and thank you."
"That's a relief," I said with a genuine smile, "but did he keep the syrup out of his hair?"
Another harrumph, this one followed by a smile matching mine. "We got cleaned up well enough."